Snowfall
by Harthad
Summary: Inspired by It's a Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol. When Jack rashly makes a comment about wishing that Crutchie had never come to the Lodging House, he has no idea who might be listening, and what that simple comment might turn into.
1. Chapter 1

"You coulda died out there, Crutch! What didja think you was doin', throwin' yourself into a snowbank like that?!"

"S-sorry, J—Jack," Crutchie shivered, his teeth chattering. "I—I got p-pushed in by—"

"Try tah be more careful next time," Jack was barely listening. "Katherine would kill me if anything happened to any of you…"

"S-so 'ere I thought you was worried about my own safety," Crutchie mumbled. "Thanks, Jack."

Jack shook his head exasperatingly. "The trouble you get into, Crutchie…maybe it'd be better if you'd never come tah live 'ere."

Crutchie froze, watching Jack stalk by him. "What's got under your skin?" Crutchie asked, attempting to make a joke.

"Come inside, you'll get a cold," Jack banged the door to the Lodging House shut.

Crutchie lifted his hand up in the air, muttering to himself. "Never come 'ere. Huh. Ain't like I sleep on the streets most a the time, too…"

"Maybe Jack meant he wished he'd never met you, period," spoke a voice, and Crutchie nearly jumped out of his skin. "Who're you?!" He exclaimed, looking for the owner of this voice.

"The name's Jenny," a girl about Crutchie's age walked out from the shadows. She was dressed all in white. Crutchie stared at her for a long time, and then remembered his manners by taking off his hat. "Uh—what're you doin' out in the snow, miss?"

Jenny shrugged. "Checking up on people. Making sure they have a wonderful Christmas," she rolled her eyes. "Though, it looks like your friend Jack is being a downer."

"Yeah, that's right," Crutchie answered, looking towards the rooftop. "He said he wished I'd never come here," he said quietly, crushed but not willing to show it. Jenny knew, though.

"I'm sorry, Crutchie. Some friends just say the—oh. Wait. Oh, that is an idea."

Crutchie gave her a strange look. "What're you talkin' about?"

Jenny snapped her fingers. "There. You've never come to the Lodging House, or met the newsies, or Jack."

"What? But I have!" Crutchie stared at the snow, which was falling hard and fast.

"Not anymore. Take my hand."

"What?"

"Come on, just do it! I'm going to show you your new past."

"'Ow is that possible?" Crutchie took her hand, and they disappeared. Crutchie stared in wonderment at what was before him—it was his old house, before the fire. Before his parents sent him away. Crutchie glanced back at Jenny hesitantly, and she smiled.

"Go on in. It's your house, anyways."

Crutchie limped up to the door, knocking on it. To his surprise, the door swung right open, and he walked inside. He could hear music coming from the parlour, and limped over to it. Crutchie poked his head inside the room shyly, seeing his father and mother, and his brother just as he remembered them. Though maybe his parents were a little older now. Crutchie's eyes grew wide as he saw himself as eight years old, holding a small crutch. His younger self was smiling broadly, listening to the piano. Jenny joined him in the archway.

"Your parents never sent you to the orphanage, Crutchie. They took care of you, and raised you themselves. They even sent you to school. Want to see?"

Crutchie nodded. Jenny snapped her fingers, proclaiming, "Let us see another Christmas."


	2. Chapter 2

The parlour melted away, only to be replaced by a classroom. Crutchie saw himself as thirteen years old, dressed in much better clothes than he had worn then. He was sitting at a desk, copying down notes from the teacher. Two boys got up, and walked over to him on either side. Crutchie looked up at them both, hesitant. A nervous smile tugged at his lips. "What d'you want, Bill?"

The boy Bill shrugged. "Oh, nothing…just this!" Bill grabbed the crutch from the floor while his friend twisted Crutchie's arm back. Crutchie hopped up from his seat, but tripped and brought the whole desk down with him.

Present Crutchie winced as the teacher ran over, concerned. Jenny turned to Crutchie as the teacher began badgering his younger self with questions. "You did learn things, though. Even with those kids. You were going to go to university to be a doctor, but…"

"But what?" Crutchie asked.

Jenny shook her head. "My time grows short. Come on, I'll show you something else."

Crutchie took her arm. "What about Jack an' the fellas?" he asked. "What're they doin'?"

Jenny shrugged. "You'll see."

They reappeared in the center of the street, not far from the Lodging House. Crutchie immediately spotted a blue cap through the snow, and limped over to it excitedly. "Jack! Jack, I'm back! You won't believe what jus' happened—"

"Do I know you?" Jack asked.

"It's me, Crutchie," Crutchie said nervously. "Don'tcha know—"

"HEY! Get back here with my stolen bread, thief!"

Jack quickly shoved two loaves of bread into Crutchie's hands, and started to run off.

"But what about the newsies?!" Crutchie called after him. "They need to eat!"

"This bread is for me only!" Jack called back, and disappeared into the crowd. Crutchie stared at him, watching his hero run away as fast as he could. Jenny put her hand on his shoulder.

"I can't believe Jack did that—" Crutchie stated, befuddled. Jenny nodded sadly. "I have one more thing to show you, Crutchie."

"What is it?"

"I said I'd show you, didn't I?"

Jenny snapped her fingers one last time, and the pair reappeared in a graveyard. Crutchie looked at her. "What do ya think I am, Tiny Tim?!"

"You're definitely not Scrooge," Jenny muttered. "Go on. Take a look."


	3. Chapter 3

Crutchie slowly limped up to the gravestone Jenny had indicated. He froze, reading the inscription. Crutchie fell to his knees, aghast. Jenny joined him, and he looked up at her.

"Why do I die? I thought I 'ad a good family, my folks even…"

"Only the good die young," Jenny said to herself. "Crutchie, you died because you never met the newsies. You never met Jack. During your strike, Jack got sent to the Refuge. He's still there. Most of your friends are living on the streets. Davey Jacobs got kicked out of his home, along with the rest of his family. He and Les are working in a sweatshop. Katherine was crushed by the defeat of the strike, and hasn't touched her typewriter in over a month. The price per paper is now sixty cents a hundred, forever."

"Jus' 'cause I wasn't there," Crutchie whispered.

"You're more important than you thought," Jenny said. Crutchie shook his head, and stood up.

"Take me back. I gotta go back, Jenny! I don't care if I 'ad a family, or no folks—I gotta go back to the newsies!"

Jenny shook her head. "I don't know how to send you back."

"What?!" Crutchie yelled. "Jenny—please—I'm dead, 'ere! What will I do?! Bust Jack outta jail?!"

Some movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Warden Snyder was walking with a cart that looked like it had people in it. Crutchie's eyes grew wide as he saw Snyder dump the cart out and prepare grave markers. His eyes widened even more as he saw…

"Jack!" Crutchie yelled out, limping over as fast as he could. Jenny ran after him, trying to stop him. "Jack, no!"

Crutchie caught up with the cart, staring down in horror at Jack's lifeless, sleeping face. "Jack," he whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. "Jack, please, no….please, Jack, I nevah wanted—Jack, you gotta wake up, please…."

"Move along, son," Snyder ordered him. "You need to move along now."

"I can't leave him," Crutchie sobbed. "Jenny…send me back, please…"

Jenny snapped her fingers, and disappeared. Crutchie snuffled, wiping a hand across his eyes. Jack, the cart, and Warden Snyder all disappeared until Crutchie was kneeling alone in an empty graveyard. He raised his eyes, giving a start as he realized he was the only one there. Crutchie quickly stood up and limped all the way back to the Lodging House as fast as he could, a broad smile appearing on his face.

"Jack!" He raced up the steps of the Lodging House and up to the bedrooms. He ran over to the fire escape, going up to the roof.

"Jack!" Crutchie exclaimed, limping over to his friend who was fast asleep in the middle of his drawings. Crutchie shook his shoulder until he awoke, and then hugged him as hard as he could. "Jack, you're alive! An' so am I! Jenny showed me—but I'll tell ya latah. Yous alive!"

"Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too, Kid. Now leggo of me."

Crutchie did. "I'll nevah stay out in the snow fer that long again, Jack."

"You do that, kid. Now—can I please get some sleep?"

Crutchie looked to be on the verge of saying something else, but he just shook his head and smiled. "Merry Christmas, Jack."

He climbed down from the roof and limped into the bedroom where the other newsies were—where Crutchie knew he belonged, for this Christmas and many others yet to come.


End file.
